He was left is his room to bleed his life away.

Sometimes, you have to find your own way in life. Like it or not.

One shot. The story of a lonely truck driver and an eccentric, atypical hitchhiker. Short but funny and exciting.

Short poem, please r&r and I'll return the favour! Getting back to my signature writing style, I think?

I just want you to know that I'm not crazy.

When a cute stranger at the game store proposes to you, what are you supposed to say? Well, yes, of course. ONESHOT.

She was riding a bicycle. He watched her. He wanted to ride a bicycle with her. He gazed down at the wheelchair and knew that he was not riding a bicycle. Not now, not ever.

Apologies are always the hardest when the hourglass is running out...a conversation with my mother. R/R

Some people write love letters. --TAKEN DOWN FOR EDITING--

One shot. Watch them fall, one by one.

A drabble of feelings

and completely thundered. [edited]